


Confessions and Cookouts

by Rainbowraptor



Series: ZaDr Week Summer 2020 [3]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25041661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbowraptor/pseuds/Rainbowraptor
Summary: Irkens don't feel love, they don't desire affection, they surely don't mind that a specific human is attending a party instead of trying to stop them.Prompt: Fashion/Summer food
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Series: ZaDr Week Summer 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798783
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	Confessions and Cookouts

Zim's happy despite the horrendous, terrible heat. His PAK whirs underneath his red top, cooling fans working overtime but he's pleased. Zim isn't thinking about the burning stupid sun or the waves of Sol radiating from the pavement. No, only about his mission. Zim’s destination. His goal.

Humans are gawking at Zim. Of course they are. Zim's not afraid. His disguise is perfection. He, striding through this town, wearing these white super shorty short shorts, his superior Irken thighs showing just above shimmering blue stockings, and ending with blood red metal shiny boots. Zim, with his wig nice and slightly tolused and claws out and painted, red and blue with white sparkling stars, is all determination, honed onto one thing. 

TheDib.

The walk is hard, sweaty, from his base to the Fourth of July party at Keef’s, but Zim doesn’t care. He’s an Invader still and an Irken. Zim's no weakling. He’s certainly better than the sniveling, stunned man who greets him at the front door of the house. “Wow, Zim, you look-” 

Zim doesn’t know this man’s name, he thinks it might be something like...Torch. It doesn’t matter. He pushes his way in. The entire inside of the house is festooned with inferior and terrible stars, flags, little men with white beards and holding smaller flags, jars of colored sand, and so much more useless garbage. 

There are a few people inside, standing around, some drinking the alcohol and eating pig meat wrapped in pastry dough, ham-in-a-quilt, Zim knows. One purple haired woman sits on the large white couch in the center of the room. Zim knows this one actually, Zita, but not the pinked haired human she’s speaking too. 

Zita looks up, right about to stuff a piece of that most hated berry, the H20melon, in her stupid face. She, infuriatingly, isn’t impressed by Zim’s clothing. 

Zim thinks he will destroy her first when he takes over the world. 

“He’s out back.” Zita says and then finishes consuming the melon. 

Zim reconsiders. Perhaps Zita's fate will be done AFTER Zim annihilates Keef.

He strides past through the living room, over a sleeping dog, and out the back sliding glass doors and comes to the backlawn. 

Zim gazes around, looking for his target. There are so many more people. Zim counts exactly twenty stinking smelly humans. They huddle in clumps, some around the pool, many actually in the pool, terrible germy, burning pit that it is, more sitting in cheap plastic patio furniture and talking, eating greasy, horrendous meat. More making stupid noises about sports, work, or cooking. All of them are dressed in horrendous clothing, khaki shorts, shirts of Hiwai, sandals, dresses with flower patterns, Zim thinks he spots one disgusting human in a skirt with red, white, and blue stars printed on the fabric.

Zim will ask the human where they got the skirt after his mission here is complete. 

Finally, Zim spots Dib at the center of the crowd, standing by Keef at the grill. Dib holds a beer and is watching Keef doing  _ something _ behind the weird contraption, Zim guesses it involves flipping some meat of a kind. 

Zim's mind rages, his attentae go rigid underneath his wig. How dare theDib, stand there in this heat, all tall, and gangly and with that, that pathetic worm baby of a man, Keef. Out of all the humans Dib had chosen to spend time with over doing his duty to foul Zim's scheme, Dib had chosen the pasty, and  _ annoying _ squirrel lover. The worst part was, of course, Dib had forced Zim to have to sink to actually  _ attend _ this horrible gathering of the  _ worst _ species in the universe. Dib wasn't  _ allowed _ to have fun. Dib was, Dib was, well,  _ theDib _ . He should be wearing that idiotic black coat of his instead of cargo shorts and a black tank top. Dib shouldn't be chuckling and laughing nervously with  _ Keef _ . He shouldn't be sweating and jittery looking at the center of this party. He should've been  _ trying _ to stop Zim from turning all the city's water into lactose free milk.

Sure, Zim  _ had  _ refused Dib's declaration of love a few moons prior. As an Irken, Zim wasn't capable of such. TheDib shouldn't have been so upset, theDib knew this, had said it himself that very same night. 

_ "I know your people aren't normally capable of human feelings, but, you, I know  _ **_you_ ** _ feel something Zim!" Dib shouted over the sound of snarling dog demons. They were running from the pack after one of them (probably Dib but Zim was unsure of who) had accidentally released them in an attempt to cause problems for the other.  _

_ "Zim feels nothing!" Zim had said. "Except boiling and intense and unbridled hate for you Dibthing!"  _

Leading the hellhounds to the mall, apparently once a sacred tribal site, had lifted the curse as Zim knew it would (maybe Dib had come up with the plan, who knows, Zim was unsure) and the hounds were gone. 

There, in the mall, in the glow of the faint security lights, Dib had scowled at Zim. " _ Fine, fine. If you are too scared to admit it, I'm done with whatever  _ **_this_ ** _ is we have."  _

He'd left, leaving Zim to fume and sputter in the middle of a clothing store. Many fashion dummies met terrible fates that night. In fact, the torn and maimed mannequins made the news the following morning. The officials didn't seem to care about the missing garments.

Now, as Zim stomps up to the pair, Zim can hear them chatting but they stop immediately when Dib glances up, noticing Zim. 

_ Ahhh, yes, good Dib-beast.  _ Zim hisses inside his head.  _ As it should be _ . Those amber eyes on Zim's purple, his spooch is a flutter with his enemies attention.

Better still is when Dib opens his mouth, gaping, staring, like Clembrane after being told his pudding is burnt. "Zim...you...what are you doing here?" He looks like he's about to start drooling. "And dressed like... _ that _ ?"

Keef, all blue eyed and bushy tailed, smiles crazily and giggles. "Oh, hey, speak of the devil! ZIM! So you  _ did _ get the invite!!! Awesome! I'm so happy you could make it!" He moves to wrap Zim into a hug. 

Zim, quick as all Irken Invaders are, pulls back, back, away from the horrible meat creature. Keef's affections and smelling of grease, body odor, and laundry soap are all repulsive and Zim wants none of it any closer than he can help it. 

But when Zim tries to steady himself, one of high heeled shoed foot doesn't cooperate. So Zim is falling now, backwards and it's at this moment Zim remembers the pool behind him, filled with all manner of chemicals and polluted foulness. 

He would surely survive but the pain…

A hand grips tight to Zim's wrist, stopping him from intense agony. With a tug, Zim is falling now forward and then being held closely. There's the scent of hamburgers, sweat, and the body deodorant spray known as Hatchet, scent number 325, or "Webflix and Chill". Zim is wrapped up in wiry and strong arms. He can feel bare arms through his top's sheer sleeves. 

Zim shudders, a trill of happiness going from the top and bottom of his PAK to his head and toes. 

The hold breaks. Dib lets go. "You look ridiculous." He says. 

"You lie!" Zim shouts. "And how dare you touch Zim!"

"Oh so I guess I should've just let you turn into bacon." Dib shouts back. 

Around them, the humans are watching, enjoying the show no doubt. Well, everyone is enthralled except for Keef who pleads, "Please, everything's ok, really, the hot dogs are done and-"

But Zim doesn't care about ham, or bacon, or porkchop, or anything pig related. "Yes, you should have! That's what  _ normal _ enemies do! They let their foes suffer!"

"I don't want to be your enemy!" Dib says. “I mean, well, not like that. I don’t want to hurt you anymore!”

"What do you want then?!" Zim screams.

"I want  _ you _ !" Says Dib.

All at once, there is a hush that seems to fall over the entire world. Zim blinks, stunned. It's absurd. It's insane. It's weak. It's bizarre. It's human. It's  _ wrong _ . 

But Zim is happy. More specifically, there is a current, a jolt of surging electricity from Zim's PAK, quick, focusing. Zim feels this feeling as he has often done in the ten or so years since coming to Urth. 

And it's  _ not _ ok, not Irken.  _ DEFECTIVE. _ But here, on this planet, away from the magnificent Irken Empire, like so many other things, Zim finds this to be...not quite…

"You...what?" Zim asks.

"I want you, Space Boy. But not as your enemy, maybe as your friend or even your glorified damn pet, I just want  _ you. _ All of you. All your stupid, over dramatic, infuriating, annoying, insane, self absorbed weirdness." Dib confesses. 

"Why?" Zim asks. The word comes out before Zim could say  _ "Of course the Dib does, everyone wants Zim, because Zim is not stupid, not over dramatic, not all those things, Zim is the best invader. Of course you want Zim but Irkens don't want anyone so cry about your unrequited feelings and-" _ Zim knows this but to actually hear it from the Dib because it's different and Zim needs to  _ understand _ .

"I don't know." Dib says. "I tried being normal." He raises his arms and gestures to the party. "With all  _ this _ but it's just so...so...so…" Dib's face twists into agony. "Boring." He stops. "Sorry Keef."

"It's ok." Keef squeaks, eyes wide. He's watching Dib's and Zim's saga unfold, enraptured.

"My point is Zim, you make me feel good, alive, and I guess, I don't know…' Dib flounders, "Irk...I mean your...uh...people, don't do romance, I get that, but I don't care. I don't. I’d like to try just, I don’t know, like, not actively trying to kill each other."

Zim recalls how he felt this morning, alone and working to convert all the city’s water to non-dairy milk. Gir and Minimoose, they weren’t enough anymore. It had been ten long years since Zim had seen another Irken face and worse still, the Tallest hadn’t even contacted him to get a report. But that was OK, Zim told himself, Irkens didn’t need companionship and friends and...lovers. 

But.

“Tell Zim again.” Zim orders.

Dib frowns, “I don’t want to kill you?”

Zim hisses. “No, no, the other thing!”

Dib looks down into Zim’s eyes and says. “I want you Zim.” 

There is a collective gasp from all around them and Zim is suddenly aware again of where they both are. But Dib doesn’t care, he’s looking at only Zim, seeing only Zim, and Zim's pleased at this. 

Again, from Zim’s PAK, is a weird shock of something. Painful an elation, soaring, giddy, as if he were at the core of a massive army about to crush an opposing force. It’s better than anything Zim has ever felt. 

And he wanted more of it.

“Fine.” Zim says. “Seeing as you clearly have come to your senses, Zim shall allow your terms of surrender to Zim. Now, embrace Zim again!” 

Dib laughs and hugs Zim close.“Hey, this doesn’t mean you get to wreck the Earth.” Dib whispers. “Wait, did you steal those clothes?” Dib asks. “From the mall?” 

Zim rolls his eyes while also enjoying the sheer feel of Dib’s arms around his body, as warm and as stinky as the human man is. “Zim has waited this long to destroy your home planet, it’s fine to wait until  _ after _ you perish. And yes, of course, payment for banishing those foul dog things. ”

“You were the one to let them loose in the first place.” Dib scoffed. 

They were headed away from the party now, to the cheers and claps of Keef and a few others. Zim supposed the humans could continue living, they had, afterall, apparently recognized Zim’s victory and were celebrating it. “Yes and then Zim helped to get rid of them. Payment.” Zim said as they left the house. But as soon as they were outside and alone, Zim suddenly stopped. 

“What is it? You drop something?” Dib asked. 

“You...you are right. Zim feels...something, feelings.” Zim holds his arm, drops his head. He can’t help it even though his entire mind is screaming at him to stop, to stand tall and proud and fearless and strong and- “Zim was angry you didn’t show today. And then people were talking about the party and how you’d be there and Zim thought of the night and your weak, driveling confessions, and Zim felt...well, Zim  _ felt _ .” He felt his face flush like a pathetic human but he couldn’t stop, not with the burning in his PAK. “And so, Zim...Zim might be...defective in someway, surely because of this cursed planet. Because you make me happy.” Zim looks up at Dib. “So, if you want Zim and promise to not oppose Zim, Dib...Zim would like to have Dib as well."

Dib smiled and, in the hot, burning sun, in the middle of the day, on the sidewalk, kissed Zim. 

Zim's happy despite the horrible horrendous heat.  _ Mission accomplished _ , he thinks. 

  
  
  



End file.
